There go the winds,
tumbling out my sails,
leaving me alone and stranded
where intention often fails.

There go the winds,
blowing down the road,
leaving me alone to contemplate
the lessons I've ignored.

There go the winds,
disappearing like a friend,
stealing away that confidence
and that wish-fulfilling grin.

Hazy dawn on the horizon,
grayish-white with yellow.
Every day when I awaken,
I stare out my window.
Broken dreams fall from my eyelids,
rest in peace on my pillow.
Robins greet me with their singing,
I wave my hand and say hello.

I've been waiting with the silence,
sitting here just doing time.
On my back and facing heaven,
watching all the clouds go by.
I've been searching for my teacher,
someone who has seen the light,
who can show me my mistakes, now,
who can teach me wrong from right.

If a voice comes through the chatter,
saying words I can't define:
"Are you doing well my child?"
Yes, Pa, I am doing fine.
I am not afraid of dying.
I'm afraid of being alive.
Joyfully I do my work now.
Doing work I will survive.

But, could you pick me up at sunset,
take me on an evening ride?
Take a trip down to the fountain
in the labyrinth of my mind.
Send me sailing through the cosmos,
set me free from my confines.
Please be careful with your timing,
I'd like to see the sunrise.

Even continents will crumble
from the pressure of the world.
The highest clouds will tumble
into twisted patterns of a curl.
Maybe the wind is screaming “mercy”
to the idle feeling in my bones,
but I only know what I perceive
and my mind is deaf to foreign tones.
A heavy soul's another burden
sailing on the ocean of the mind,
hoisted onto shoulders again
causing frayed virtues to unwind.
My thoughts are turning icy.
Frozen sheets claw up my back.
Icicles growing through my psyche
antagonize the fire that I lack.
I could be wrong for trying
to see the blues through rosy glass,
but when flocks of thoughts go flying
I watch the purple pass.

There she was sitting at the foot of my bed,
floating out words like a gun to my head:

"Everything you do's based on pride.
All that you say is a lie.

Everything you think you can hide
is made clear in the light."

Oh, I sat and stared her right in the eye.
I went right for her heart and said: "I am alive

but what about you?

Say what you want about the day and the night,
keep those words coming, 'cause they sure sound nice.

Everything you say to me
is empty philosophy.

You and I will never agree,
and that's a prophecy.

I'm sick of all your **** and I think that it's time.
I've gotta let you know, babe, I'm feeling fine

but what about you?

I'm doing what I can to be more I was.
You're limping on a crutch made of "because."

When you finally hear what I say,
I'll have gone far away.

I clearly have no reason to stay,
so I'm leaving today.

I'm heading for the shore, to cast out to sea.
I'm leaving you behind and I'm gunna be free,

but what about you?"

A moon disc moves around in space,
beaming white with shades of time
as the pupil of a cosmic eye,
an aperture of the mind.
Its clouded iris billows,
evolving mountains in the sky
as textured fields of cirrostratus
caressing what's divine.
There's a copper sclera of diffraction,
as concentric rings of luminescence
enjoy, for tonight, partaking of this essence.

Do the pinewood teeth serrating mountains
not speak for want of a tongue?
I know they sigh sometimes with longing
when they're moved before a gale.
I hear your storm has started calling,
as the wind whispers me your tale.
The rain's a heavy harmony,
strumming straight on panes of glass,
and those rivulets of running water
walk patience to the brink
as the eddies of a circling mind
whirl cogs which make me think:

*I see your face in scattered strangers,
your form behind the rippling of skirts.
I hope your restlessness will soothe itself
and you feel at home, here on this earth.

"Would you like to share my umbrella?"
A voice said behind me,
quiet and reserved,
testing uncertainty with a modest proposal.
It was raining, after all.
Maybe I looked a little forlorn
walking alone along the path.
My pants were soaked and
I was contemplating the pattern
that liquid found through my pants.
Top of the thigh,
middle of the shin,
top of the foot.
I stopped and looked at the voice.
Her head was wrapped with a scarf,
dark brown pools reflected
through the opening of cloth.
"Sure." I said, and stepped inside.
She fussed with the umbrella, said
"This umbrella leaks,
I don't think it was made for the rain.
It must be one of those sun umbrellas.
My head keeps getting wet."
She unwrapped her scarf,
her straight dark hair fell out.
She patted her head.
She said her name.
Maybe I should feel ashamed
that I don't recall her name.
Me: "Where are you off to?"
Her: "Jack Baskin. You?"
Me: "Core West."
Her: "Where's that? By Kerr?"
Me: "The parking structure."
Her: "Oh, I know where that is.
           Do you know what time it is?"
Me: "I dunno, 11:45?" I checked the time.
        "Oh, wow, 11:58."
Her: "I don't have class until 12:30."
Me: "What class?"
Her: "Spanish 4."
And we talked in similar patterns
for the rest of the walk.
She liked the rain, and so did I.
She wished she stayed home.
So did I.
I showed her a path in the forest,
past the makeshift hut
that habitual smokers crafted
to hide with their habits.
I showed her the bench,
she was pleased with surprise.
Her: "How old are you?"
Me: "Oh, twenty..." I hesitated,
doing mental math "...four. You?"
Her: "Twenty-one."
Me: "Ah, I see you're surviving your twenty-first."
Her, laughing: "I lost my ID when I turned 21.
       I didn't do much drinking on my birthday.
       I don't like the clubs, or bars."
I didn't like them either.
Me: "What're you doing when you graduate?"
Her: "I want to join the Peace Corps.
          I want to travel around the world,
         and help people. It's why I study biology."
Me: "Yeah, travel is great. You should go do that."
Her: "Well, I told my parents. They don't want me to.
          I was born in the Philippines.
          My parents immigrated here.
          They want me to be happy and stationary here.
          Not traveling the world, you know?"
I knew.
She reached into her bag, pulled out a banana.
Her: "Would you like some of this banana?"
Me: "Sure."
We talked a bit more, about the dreads
of dealing with box-checking pre-meds,
of the work-load for a graduate student,
of what it's like up in Arcata.
Twenty minutes disappeared
quicker than is fair.
We left towards the engineering hall.
We parted at the parking structure.
Her: "Farewell, it was nice talking to you, Dylan."
Me: "Aye, it was a pleasure. Farewell."
I felt bad I didn't remember her name,
but I'll remember the unsolicited kindness,
and try to pass it along all the same.

In the shade of a willow,
down by a stream,
I wander down the hallway
of my fantasy.

I'm drifting like a cloud,
a shadow in the sky,
trying to find the courage
to go ahead and try.

I'm looking 'round at beauty
that's battered to the ground,
trampled by the people
blindly wandering around.

It's got me feeling hopeless.
I'm really feeling down.
Is there no one here who loves me
in this God-forsaken town?

I'm ignored by the strangers,
polishing their diadem.
What they all believe
is a wish fulfilling gem.

Life has got me thinking
that it's hard to find a friend.
I think of all those little games
that I don't comprehend.

I'll recognize your face
when I see you in the crowd.
I'll know you when you say
my name out loud.

Where are you, my lover?
Have you gone and lost your way?
Have your forgotten
everything you'd like to say?

I'll wait for you, my darling,
honest, brave, and kind.
I'll think about the mysteries
and magic we will find.

Walking by the river.
Footsteps in the sand.
Everything I say to you,
I know you'll understand.